


Detention With a Weasley

by Violetrose93



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Childhood Friends, Crushes, Detention, F/M, Fluff, Gryffindor/Slytherin Inter-House Relationships, Hogwarts Inter-House Friendships, Next-Gen, Pranks and Practical Jokes, first year
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-30
Updated: 2017-07-30
Packaged: 2018-12-08 18:25:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11652162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Violetrose93/pseuds/Violetrose93
Summary: Scorpius's first year at Hogwarts isn't off to an auspicious start. Detention is bad enough, but detention with Rose Weasley?





	Detention With a Weasley

 

* * *

 

            Scorpius had come to the conclusion that the worst part about detention wasn’t the physical labor. It was the boredom. He stared around dismally at the pile of trophies and awards that needed to be polished. Groaning, he cursed himself for getting involved with Blaire in the first place. It was something about her eyes, he decided; they were so beautiful, so incredibly mesmerizing, that even though they were both first years, he hadn’t been able to tell her no.

            The door to the Trophy Room suddenly slammed opened, and Filch came stomping in, dragging a girl behind him. Shoving her forward, he snarled, “Any more problems and you’ll be polishing silver in the kitchen with the house elves until Christmas!”

            Muttering curses under his breath, Filch stormed back out of the room, leaving Scorpius alone with the girl. He looked at her curiously and realized it was Rose Weasley

            “What are you doing here?” he asked, eyes widening incredulously.

            Rose just glared at him and shook her heavy red curls out of her face. “None of your business.” Looking sour, she snatched up a shield and started rubbing it vigorously with a rag.

            Scorpius turned back to his own work, but his mind was spinning from the fact that the most straitlaced girl in his year was in detention.

            Something occurred to him. “Wait,” he said slowly, “yesterday at lunch, Nott said that someone sent a bunch of fifth years to the Hospital Wing.” Rose flushed scarlet but didn’t answer. Scorpius laughed, more from astonishment than anything else “What did you _do_ to them?” he asked

            “Nothing,” Rose said stiffly. After a moment, she added, “Nothing that they didn’t deserve, anyway.” When Scorpius looked at her expectantly, she sighed and said, “They were teasing me. Which isn’t unusual, really, because I have so many cousins. I mean, I’m used to it. Except . . .” Her face grew red again, and she fell silent.

            “Except what?” prompted Scorpius. Although he’d never admit it to any of his Slytherin friends, he had had a keen interest in Rose Weasley since he first saw on the train platform.  

            “Well, I’m not going to repeat what they said, okay?” she said hotly. “The only thing anyone seems to care about is the fact that I hexed the lot of them.”

            “But how did you—”

            “Like I said, I have a lot of cousins. You kind of learn to fend for yourself.” Rose gave him a small smile and said, “Although, the hex I actually learned from one of my aunts. Not that I told _them_ that.”

            “Were there really four of them? Because that’s what Nott said, but I didn’t believe him.”

            Rose shook her head. “Only three. There _was_ a fourth boy in the Hospital Wing, but I didn’t put him there.”

            Scorpius looked at her, impressed. “And to think I thought you were stuffy.”

            “What do you mean, ‘stuffy’?” She narrowed her eyes.

            “Not stuffy, exactly,” Scorpius backtracked. “Just . . . studious.”

            “By which you mean stuffy."        

            “Um . . . no?”

            Rose rolled her eyes and went back to polishing. “Well, you never struck me much as an arsonist yourself.”

            “Excuse me?” To Scorpius’s horror, his voice shot up two octaves and probably cracked the glass in the windows.         

            “The fireworks in Professor Flitwick’s fireplace? Come on, everyone heard about that. My cousin said that Flitwick’s beard was almost entirely burned off. Not smart, Malfoy.”

            Now it was Scorpius’s turn to flush. “I didn’t . . . that wasn’t . . .”

            “It wasn’t you?”

            “No, it was,” he admitted, somewhat shamefacedly. “But not just me.”

            “Oh, is there someone else in here?” Rose looked around the room, as if another student was lurking behind the towering pile of tarnished trophies and awards.

            “No.”

            “Ah,” said Rose, nodding. “So you’re basically a patsy. A fall guy.”

            “I am not!”

            “From where I’m sitting, I have to disagree.”

            His knuckled whitened around the trophy he held. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he snapped. “Just because I won’t rat out my friends doesn’t make me gullible.”

            “So, Blaire Zabini gloating about how easily persuaded you are shouldn’t bother you. Because you’re . . . friends,” said Rose dubiously.

            Scorpius blinked. “What?”

            The look she gave him was almost pitying. “She was in the library earlier, telling what’s-his-name, the one with the funky ears—”

            “Nott,” said Scorpius absently.

            “—yes, him. She was telling Nott all about it."           

            Scorpius was silent, staring at the wall behind Rose’s head. A sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach made him believe that she was telling the truth. Merlin, he was an idiot. He’d been played by a pair of sparkly eyes and a tinkling laugh.

            Noticing his distress, she said, “Hey, don’t beat yourself up about it.” She waved her hand dismissively. “I’ve got three part-Veela cousins, and you wouldn’t believe what they can get people to do.”

            He just looked at her glumly. “Is that supposed to make me feel better about not having any real friends?”

            Rose rolled her eyes. “Aren’t we feeling melodramatic tonight?”

            “You know, for a Gryffindor, you’re not a very nice person.”

            “Duh. What part of sent-three-people-to-the-Hospital-Wing didn’t you get? What do you think I am, a Hufflepuff?” 

            “Still, you’re in _Gryffindor_ ,” said Scorpius stubbornly. “Aren’t you lot supposed to be the protectors of the weak and downtrodden or something?”

            “First of all, they were hardly ‘weak and downtrodden’. And second, you’re in Slytherin, but I don’t see you trying to talk to snakes.”

            Scorpius made a face. “Thank Merlin. I hate snakes.”

            “Really?” Rose leaned back against the wall and stretched out her legs, pulling a large trophy into her lap. “I actually like them. We have a cute little grass snake that lives by the pond at my grandparents’ house.”

            “I’m not afraid of them or anything,” he was quick to point out, “I just don’t like having them around.”       

            “That’s kind of ironic.” 

            “Tell me about it,” said Scorpius morosely. “My grandfather actually wanted to get me a pet python before I left for school.”

            “Ew. Did he?”

            “No. My mom had already gotten me an owl,” said Scorpius, shrugging. “And we’re only allowed one pet.”

             “No one really pays attention to that rule. I have an owl and a cat.”

            “But my grandfather doesn’t know that,” said Scorpius, flashing her a grin. 

            “That’s terrible,” said Rose, laughing. “I love it.”

            Scorpius’s heart skipped a beat, and he laughed too. Her smile was infectious, he realized, like Dragon Pox, but probably without the side effects. 

* * *

 

            Detention passes a thousand times faster when there’s someone you can talk and joke with. As they left the Trophy Room, Scorpius realized to his chagrin that he’d had more fun in detention than he’d ever had hanging out with his Slytherin friends.

            “The Halloween feast is tomorrow, and my parents said that the decorations are incredible,” Rose was saying as they headed for the Grand Staircase. “Apparently, all the candles get put inside floating Jack-O-Lanterns, and they have whole clouds of bats just flying around the ceiling.”

            Scorpius grimaced. “I hope they’re not real bats.”

            “Why not?”

            “One word: guano.”    

            Her eyes widened in horrified glee. “That’s so gross!” she squealed.

            “But so true,” Scorpius pointed out.

            “Ick, ick, ickety ickety ick.” Rose was still chanting when they came to the stairs. They paused, awkward for the first time since Filch had tossed her into the Trophy Room.  She glanced uncertainly at the door to the dungeon, then at Scorpius.

            “Well . . . night, then,” he said, started down the stairs.   

            “Yeah, night,” replied Rose, sounding slightly disappointed.         

            He was halfway down the first flight before he stopped. “Uh, Weasley?” Cringing internally, he turned back around.

            “Yes?” Even from a distance, Scorpius could see how blue her eyes were.

            “Do you think you could help me with the Transfiguration homework? I heard someone say you’re really good at it.” Actually, he’d learned that from watching her in class. It was a lame excuse, but hey, he was eleven. And she was definitely more fun than any of his other friends.

            “That’s funny,” said Rose, tilting her head slightly and smirking. “I could’ve sworn I heard someone say the exact same thing about you.”

 


End file.
